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by yourfearlessleader



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Competence Kink, Daddy Kink, Facial Shaving, Forced Orgasm, Knifeplay, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Subspace, Under-negotiated Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-01
Updated: 2019-04-01
Packaged: 2019-12-30 04:16:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18308012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yourfearlessleader/pseuds/yourfearlessleader
Summary: Diego has a box.





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**Author's Note:**

> So instead of finishing either of my plot based wip's, I sat down and wrote almost 5k of kinky nonsense...
> 
> Triple threat of shaving kink, very questionable daddy kink, and light knifeplay. I am shockingly bad at editing so it all went in lmao 
> 
> bon appetite

 

 

-

 

Diego has a box. An old, black box, a trunk of sorts, that he uses to keep his extensive knife collection. It’s his arsenal, his toolkit, his treasure trove, and Klaus is digging through it like a greedy raccoon looking for food.

 

He’s seen the trunk before, locked up and tucked under Diego’s bed, but he’s never actually looked inside it. Klaus opens the snap fastenings curiously and flips the lid. He runs his fingers over the sleek black handles of Diego’s go-to combat knives on the top layer, knowing these knives very well by sight alone. Then he lifts the velveted tray out and finds another layer like a candy box underneath.

 

These knives are crammed in, jumbled up and less well-cared for than the top layer. They’re obviously back-ups, emergency ammunition consisting of very standard but very reliable blades, a few larger hunting knives, and some other more interesting pieces that aren’t Diego’s usual style. Klaus runs his thumb gently over the corner of a throwing star, strongly considering relieving it from it’s second row relegation and adding it into his own collection of ‘rescued’ items.

 

But below the reject layer is the good stuff, clearly the things that Diego holds great value to. Klaus’ eyes glint as the blades shine invitingly when brought into the light. These knives are pretty, there’s no other way Klaus wants to describe them. Diego has three delicate knives with ornately carved handles that look very old and very expensive, and Klaus traces a reverent fingertip over the fine detailing on each. There’s also the first two knives that Diego had began his training with, enjoying their retirement sitting side by side and looking very well worn. Klaus recognises them with a smile, remembering all the times those knives caught him by the collar or between the legs.

 

And finally is something very interesting. It’s a straight razor; a beautifully old-fashioned shaving knife with a mother-of-pearl inlaid handle. The opalescent sheen of it goes straight to Klaus’ shiny magpie brain and he lifts it carefully from the loop of velvet holding it in place. He opens it just as slowly, surprised that Diego would own something like this. A straight razor does not fit Diego’s rough and ready aesthetic at all, but here it sits, in Klaus’ hand, and Klaus wonders if Diego’s ever shaved with it.

 

It’s as he’s testing its sharpness that Diego actually comes into the room. He stops short at the sight of Klaus sitting on the floor surrounded by his collection like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

 

Diego raises an eyebrow levelly. ‘If anything is missing, I will end you.’

 

Klaus raises his hands in surrender and Diego clocks the blade he’s still holding. His eyes narrow imperceptibly.

 

‘What are you doing with that one?’

 

‘Oh, you know,’ Klaus jokes, shrugging. ‘Thought I could do with a shave.’

 

Diego hums disbelievingly and circles closer to Klaus, he lifts the razor out of his fingers, not noticing the way Klaus’ breathing spikes. ‘It’s a lovely piece, Diego,’ Klaus tells him admiringly, eyes dark at the way Diego handles it. ‘You ever use it?’

 

‘Used to.’

 

Klaus bites his lip, a little thrill at the image of Diego using a straight razor to shave curls up his spine. There’s something so old-school romantic and capable about it. Klaus is enamoured.

 

‘Well aren’t you full of surprises.’ He pauses, considering another idea. ‘You ever use it on someone else?’

 

‘I haven’t killed anyone with it, if that’s what you mean.’

 

Diego holds out his other hand to Klaus, lifting him up off the ground when he takes it. Klaus brushes the dust off his skirt.

 

‘You want to?’

 

That makes Diego pause, everything Klaus ever says has to be layered under insinuation and double meaning and he has to take a moment to choose his answer carefully.

He closes the razor and holds his hand out to Klaus again, as though offering a dance at a debutante ball.

 

‘I would love for you to be my first.’

 

Klaus takes the hand with a heated smile and Diego leads him toward the bathroom.

 

-

 

Klaus hops up onto the wide bathroom counter, next to the sink where Diego runs the hot tap, filling the basin with steaming water. Diego lays out the knife and pulls shaving soap and oil from the cabinet.

 

It’s very much a makeshift version of a barbershop shave; as with everything in their lives they have to make the best of a less than ideal situation. But Klaus is proud of them regardless, and he swings his legs in anticipation as Diego wets a towel in the hot water. He presses the towel to Klaus’ face gently and then loads up a thick brush with lathered soap. Diego moves with a steadiness that is enviable to Klaus' jittery self, and comes to stand in between his legs. Klaus feels like a live wire, exposed and restless at the proximity, at the intimacy of Diego in front of him, fixing him with that heavy gaze like he’s a target worth hitting.

 

‘This isn’t how it’s usually done, so you’re going to have to sit very still and trust me,’ Diego tells him as he lathers up Klaus’ face.

 

‘Aye aye, captain.’

 

And then he picks up the razor, opening it to the right angle and balance to use. Klaus’ mouth goes dry, he’s always had a thing for Diego's hands and the way he handles his knives, and he feels a telltale stirring underneath the skirt he’s wearing. He wonders if Diego will notice he's getting hard.

 

Diego has always been very physically competent, and the surety of his heated grip on Klaus’ face makes Klaus’ head swim. He feels nice, almost detaching from his body. It’s so good to be taken care of like this, but he’s somehow grasping for purchase, something else not quite there. Diego holds his jaw steady, pulling the skin taught, and drags the blade down over Klaus’ cheek in little movements, letting the weight of the razor do the work, and wiping the excess foam off on a towel afterward. Diego’s unwavering focus is intense and Klaus feels the impulse to talk.

 

‘Y’know, Dad did this for me when I last saw him.’

 

‘You really want to talk about Dad right now?’ Diego says, still repeating the slice and wipe motions as he works his way down Klaus’ cheek. He pauses for a moment to look pointedly down at the incriminating bulge of Klaus’ crotch and raises a brow.

So he did notice then.

 

Klaus’ lip quirks in Diego’s grip, his brain-to-mouth filter has always been practically non-existent and today is no exception.

 

‘You could be Daddy if you wanted to. A different kind of Daddy obviously,' he adds suggestively, nodding to all of Diego's straps and harnesses. 'You’ve already got the whole leather thing down.’

 

Diego snorts and shakes his head, he points the razor head on at Klaus, clocking his angle straight away. ‘No fucking way am I going to let you call me Daddy while we fuck.’

 

But Klaus has caught the scent of blood and barrels on. ‘Master then? I know that’s appealing to a lot of guys. It has the control but not the Freudian complication. Or Sir? I’ve been in the army, Diego, I know how to take an order.’

 

He winks and Diego’s face heats. But he can’t help feeling a slight pang of concern at the flippant way Klaus jokes about that time in his life. Diego tilts Klaus' head back firmly instead, fingers whitening against Klaus’ jaw as he moves to shave his neck. Klaus stays quiet but Diego can feel the way his pulse is thundering. He manages to do the other side Klaus' face, smoothing his cheeks and tidying up around the scruff of a goatee he's got going on, and Klaus is practically vibrating under his fingers by the time he finishes.

He wipes the last wisps of foam from Klaus’ face with the pad of his thumb, swipes over his lip softly for good measure.

 

‘But you like Daddy though?’ Klaus asks, eyes dark, his voice suddenly coy and sultry, even though Diego had said nothing else about it. He clearly wants this from Diego, pushing him into it. Klaus reels him closer with a foot behind his thighs, hitching his skirt up higher so Diego can feel the heat from between his legs. And despite every urge in his brain telling him no, Diego's breathing spikes.

 

‘I like it when you take care of me. Feel how hard you make me, Daddy,’ Klaus urges, arching his back and bringing their crotches together by pulling his fingers through Diego's belt loops. He seems to sense Diego's reluctance though from the way he freezes, sees the way he's struggling to handle the situation. He meets Diego's eye with unexpected sincerity and the affected tone drops to an honest whisper.

 

'I need it, Diego, _please_.'

 

That gets him. Diego swallows, caught, feels his blood rushing down at Klaus' open, earnest asking. He wants to laugh, to shake Klaus off, but his mouth is as dry as a desert and he’s unable to break the piercing, imploring eye contact Klaus has locked him in. The steam in the room is not the only thing that’s making beads of sweat begin to gather and roll down his back. Klaus continues to grind them together until Diego is thick and leaking in his pants because giving in to Klaus is not a matter of if, it's a matter of when.

 

Klaus licks his lips like he wants it bad, tugging Diego even closer to really feel how hard he is. He tilts his head sweetly, but his voice is anything but.

 

‘You wanna sit me on that dick, Daddy?’

 

Diego wouldn’t believe it from anyone else, wouldn’t engage so easily with this kind of thing. But something about Klaus’ act is very convincing, the way he slips into it so naturally, changing his body language to be demure and acquiescing, and adopting a playful lilt to his voice that pushes buttons Diego didn't even know he had. Diego lowers the hand holding the razor slowly, feeling the atmosphere in the room shifting. He'd do anything for Klaus and Klaus knows it.

 

Klaus lifts his skirt even higher, spreads his legs wider. He takes hold of Diego’s hand still holding the razor and brings it gently to the soft, exposed inside of his thigh. Diego’s breath catches. Klaus guides him, tickling the skin just barely with the tip of the blade. Diego’s focus is laser sharp, on high alert that this knife is far too dangerous for this kind of play, but the agonising thrill of it is enough not to make him stop.

 

‘I want to make you feel good,’ Klaus tells him, hushed but insistent. He strokes the flat of the blade down his thigh and Diego tries to will his hand to stay still so that he doesn’t accidentally cut his brother.

 

‘I want to feel you come in me,’ Klaus continues, swept up by his own game, ‘so that I know I’ve made you feel good. Will you let me do that, Daddy?’

 

Unexpected lust zips through Diego’s whole body and he realises sickeningly that he _likes_ hearing Klaus talk like this, that he _wants_ to let Klaus do all the things he’s saying and keep calling him Daddy.

_God_ , Diego thinks, this is so fucked up. But in the same way that watching a car crash is both exciting and horrifying, Diego can’t pull away. Klaus is a flame and he’s always been a stupid, stupid moth.

 

Klaus sucks his bottom lip between his teeth, looks at Diego from underneath his eyelashes all innocent and pretty, and Diego snaps.

 

He drops the knife onto the counter beside Klaus, safely enough out of reach, and dives for Klaus’ mouth. With both hands now free he pulls Klaus to the edge of his perch on the sink top, pressing them together and grinding his dick into Klaus’ as he sucks on his tongue. Klaus makes a satisfied, greedy little sound as he opens up to Diego, pulling him in like a black hole seeking sunlight. He raises his skirt to bunch around his hips and Diego finally realises that Klaus isn’t wearing any underwear underneath. He tears himself away from Klaus’ mouth, looks down at where Klaus’ cock peeks out, flushed and leaking, from between the folds of fabric.

 

‘Touch yourself,’ Diego tells him roughly. ‘I want to see you come in your little skirt.’

 

And that shocks Klaus as much as it does himself. Klaus’ eyes darken even more and he leans back against the mirror, hips titled better towards Diego. He rubs at his thighs, dragging his nails higher and higher, raking blunt red lines onto the pale skin as he works himself up.

 

‘I’ll come for you, Daddy. I’ll be so good for you,’ he promises eagerly, desperately.

 

Then Klaus takes his cock in his hand and begins to pull, a long, hard stroke that Diego can feel the roughness of just by looking at it. Klaus’ breath hitches off into a quiet, almost stifled moan and his cheeks have flushed a high pink. He suddenly can’t quite meet Diego’s eye, ducking his head and faking shy so easily that Diego buys it instantly.

 

‘Come on, Klaus,’ Diego finds himself saying, taking on a stern tone that Klaus responds to wonderfully. ‘You can do better than that.’

 

Klaus shudders and his cock jumps in his hand, and he turns his head away, biting his lip, as precome blurts heavily out of the tip and rolls to cover his fingers while he strokes.

 

‘It’s so _messy_ ,’ Klaus breathes, still averting his eyes, playing embarrassed, as he picks up his pace to please Diego.

 

Diego nods, eyes hungry on the way Klaus is pulling himself off. 'That's better,' he tells him, and Klaus makes a quiet whining noise at the praise _._

 

He’s blushing and shaking and utterly debauched, and so absolutely Diego’s for the taking that it makes Diego’s blood boil over, flooding down his spine in immediate want. He wants to get his hands on Klaus, all pretty and fucked up in his skirt and eyeliner, wants to fuck him in it, to watch Klaus sit on his dick and ride him until he comes or cries or both. And the rush of that is so heady that Diego has to put his hands on Klaus’ thighs to ground himself.

 

Klaus whimpers at the sudden contact, the heavy heat of Diego’s lovely hands on his skin, and his head cracks back against the glass as his hips dart up and his cock begins to spurt. He’s strung up and out by his unexpected orgasm, body taught like a bow and his breath caught on a wordless cry. Diego watches him heatedly, eyes greedy on the way Klaus’ cock pulses and blurts white all over the bunched fabric of his skirt.

 

‘Oh _fuck_ ,’ he croaks on the comedown, slumping bonelessly against the mirror, but Diego isn’t done with him yet.

 

‘You did so well,’ Diego says, kneading Klaus’ thighs where his hands are still resting. He puts his hands then on Klaus’ hips, bringing him closer so Diego can stand between his open legs and lean up to capture his mouth.

 

Klaus is a sweet, pliable thing now that he’s come, melting into Diego like butter candy. Diego breaks them for a moment, ‘Are you going to be good for me now?’

 

And Klaus nods frantically, clutching Diego back to him with fingers twisted into his shirt, pressing wet, open kisses along Diego’s stubbled jaw and neck.

‘Always good,’ he pants between kisses, ‘so, so good for you, Daddy.’

 

His words are like static electric shocks, little zaps that make Diego want to climb out of his skin. He hates how much it gets to him, that word, the easy submission behind it, the way Klaus unashamedly  _wants_ Diego, and knows exactly how to wind him up to get it. Diego lifts Klaus off the counter and roughly pushes him into place, bent over the top of it.

 

Klaus catches his eye in the mirror, shifting in anticipation. Diego gathers his hands in Klaus’ fallen skirt to lift it back up over his bare ass. He grinds against him, relieving some of the pressure on his dick.

 

‘Is this what you needed? You need Daddy’s cock, Klaus?’

 

And even though he feels a little stupid saying it, the effect it has on Klaus is worth it. He pushes back, eagerly urging Diego to take him.

 

‘Please fuck me,’ he whines, begging so beautifully. ‘ _Please_ , Daddy, I need it so much.’

 

‘Fuck, Klaus,’ Diego breathes, unable not to. He can see that Klaus has gone somewhere else with it, that he’s fully immersed in this fantasy, in this game that Diego recognises but doesn’t fully know the rules of. He wants to make it good for his brother, understanding now that Klaus does need it, for whatever fucked up reason, and that he’s trusting Diego to give it to him.

 

Diego unbuckles his belt and finally pulls his own cock out. He reaches for the oil and wets himself generously, breathing sharply through his nose at being touched after so long waiting, jerking himself off languorously at the sight of Klaus spread before him.

 

‘Hold yourself open for me,’ Diego tells him, and Klaus moans waveringly, reaching back to part his cheeks so Diego can hold his dick and press forward, bumping the head against Klaus’ hole a few times. Each time he tests the give, pushing a little harder to open Klaus up until the tip squeezes in with a sickeningly sudden lurch. Klaus cries out so loudly and intensely that he shakes with it, overwhelmed by the stretch and the burning pain of Diego forcing his way inside.

 

‘Oh _fuck_ ,’ he says again, his back curling, moaning through it as a violent bolt of pleasure makes him spasm and clench down on the intrusion. Diego scrabbles at Klaus’ back, gasping at how tight that makes him and suddenly feeling his orgasm right at the door.

 

‘Stop, _stop_ ,’ he pants out, trying to ease Klaus off before he comes too soon, but Klaus can’t help himself, too far gone to control his body’s responses. So Diego pushes in harder, all the way against the tight, pulsing grip of Klaus around him, managing only to pump his hips a couple more times before he comes, loud and unbidden, emptying himself into Klaus with shaky, frantic thrusts.

 

Klaus bites his forearm as he’s shoved forward and fully pierced by Diego’s cock, and his cheeks wet with tears when he feels the thick heat of Diego spilling deep. He feels himself go under, the pain and the way Diego consumes him so entirely taking him far away. The separation from his body so complete and blissful that he's only vaguely aware of his own second orgasm pouring out as Diego continues to stimulate him from inside. Klaus floats, none of his highs ever matching this feeling, and then slowly, luxuriously feels himself coming back to his body, like surfacing out of a bubble.

 

Diego is talking to him, softly rubbing his sides and back and very gently easing his cock out. Klaus finds his hand, links their fingers together, and uses the other hand to hold Diego’s thigh to stop him pulling out.

 

‘Keep it in,’ he chokes. ‘Just for a little longer.’

 

Diego shifts on his feet, squirming at the oversensitivity, but he stays put for Klaus, instead bringing his brother up to stand so they’re flush back to front and he can reach to kiss him. Klaus twists his head to allow better access and Diego fits a palm along the smooth, pale column of his neck. Diego keeps an eye on them in the mirror, admiring the way they look tangled up in each other and he stops the kiss to show Klaus.

 

‘Look at us, baby,’ he murmurs into Klaus’ ear, running a hand down his arm as they watch themselves in the reflection.

 

Klaus moans softly under the attention, at the way Diego’s skin contrasts with his own, the way he’s held so possessively and how utterly ruined he looks. His eyes are glassy, cheeks flushed and stained with tear tracks and smudged eyeliner, and Diego behind him with his pupils still dark with unbridled lust. Klaus feels Diego thickening inside him again.

 

Diego bunches Klaus’ skirt up from where it's fallen at the front, holding it out of the way and exposing his spent, red cock to them in the mirror. Diego's slow grinding his hips now, rekindling the flame that didn’t quite die out, and Klaus isn’t sure he’s going to make it through another round but fuck if he doesn’t want to try.

 

‘One more time,’ Diego tells him, as if he knew what Klaus was just thinking. ‘You can take it one more time for Daddy, show me how good you can be.’

 

It’s like hearing magic words. Klaus is under the spell and now Diego is too, fully adopting a role Klaus wasn’t certain he’d take. It turns his spine to liquid and he shudders back against Diego, lolling his head onto his brother’s shoulder. He nods, barely able to move, and lets Diego lift his vest top off.

 

Diego mouths at his neck, along his shoulder, still catching Klaus’ eye darkly in the mirror, watching as Klaus begins to get hard again, against all odds. He thrusts harder into him, grinding into his prostate and knocking Klaus’ hips on the counters edge in a way that will definitely leave marks. Klaus feels dizzy with it. He’s more present this time, really feeling the way Diego is so hot and hard inside him, relishing the girthy stretch from no preparation. They’re both slick with sweat, Diego slides against Klaus’ back as he moves, and he runs a hand over Klaus’ slim, glistening chest, stopping to toy with a nipple. He pinches and rolls the little pink bud hard between his fingers, biting Klaus’ collar when the sharpness makes him clench in response. He uses it to start a rhythm, to fuck into Klaus as he bears down on the pain, making him impossibly tighter. Diego uses his other hand to stroke Klaus’ prick, making him cry out weakly from the onslaught of sensation.

 

Klaus can do nothing but feel, caught so firmly in Diego’s embrace, slowly taken apart even further as Diego works him inside and out. A lethargy has overcome his body, the throbbing urgency of needing to come again is so very distant that Klaus just waits breathlessly for it to arrive, like the waves on a shore.

 

Diego pushes him into the counter again, his jutting hipbones scraping on the hard edge as Diego jackrabbits, suddenly swept up on his own wave. Klaus is so perfect for him, Diego thinks, watching him keenly in the mirror, his brother taking his cock so well it’s like they were made for each other. Diego tells Klaus as much and Klaus makes an urgent, guttural sound, reaching a hand back to dig into Diego’s short hair, grasping him closer. Diego _burns_ , desperately chasing his second orgasm, because Klaus looks so blissed out and overwhelmed, and Diego did that to him, Diego took him apart so nicely and so easily, and that feeling is intoxicating. Diego suddenly understands why Klaus pursues it so much.

 

There are tears in Klaus’ eyes and he has to close them for a moment. His cock is so hard in Diego’s hand again that he can’t believe it, the throbbing and the aching of his hips and ass as Diego uses him pushes him closer to coming but he suddenly isn’t sure he’ll be able to. He feels Diego lean away for a second and then his eyes flick open.

 

‘ _Oh_ ,’ he breathes.

 

Diego has picked up the knife again and is holding it flat against Klaus’ pec. The cold metal is a brand on his overheated skin and he shakes as the element of danger ratchets up his arousal. He had forgotten all about the knife but now here it is, glinting wickedly in the mirror, and even though he knows it’s in Diego’s capable hand he still feels the rushing thrill of fear. His heart starts beating quicker and the previous lethargy slips like gossamer silk.

 

‘You want it?’ Diego growls at him, his voice is that wound up and wrecked, and Klaus can’t even speak. He nods, not actually sure what Diego is going to do but blindly wanting it anyway, hardly daring to move, keeping his eyes fixed on the silver steel pressed to his skin like a promise.

 

There’s a danger curled around Diego now, a darkness steeling over his face that Klaus is terrified to realise he can’t read. It’s his brother’s trained killer face, impassive but deadly, and to have it turned on himself is electric. Klaus’ breathing shallows and his cock is a constant wet stream in Diego’s other hand, he can feel it throbbing, the roaring of his blood is loud in his ears but he zeroes in on the short grunts of Diego behind him. Their eyes are locked in the reflection and even though Diego’s black-eyed stare isn’t giving anything away, his body betrays what Klaus’ fear is doing to him. Diego fucks deep and punishingly hard into Klaus, crushing him against the countertop.

 

Klaus whines quietly, helplessly in the back of his throat, and the tears in his eyes spill over. Diego watches them fall and his facade cracks. He’s made such an unbearable mess of his brother and he can’t take it anymore. Diego comes, violently shaking against Klaus as he stills his hips, feeling a few spurts of seed empty out into Klaus' heat. But in his bliss he loses concentration, and for a second his hand holding the razor slips.

 

The skin parts in the gentlest of cuts and Klaus _sobs_ as the red blooms immediately on his sweating skin. Diego only nicked him but the effect of it is instant, Klaus’ whole body goes taught in shock and he comes suddenly, his orgasm wrenched from him for the third time, dry and so deliciously painful. He feels it tearing like fireworks through his body, lit up from the inside, and then he drops, a puppet cut from it’s strings, slumping against Diego, wholly and bone-deeply satisfied.

 

Diego drops the knife into the sink when he realises that he’s cut Klaus, and the colour drains from his face in panic.

‘Fuck, Klaus, I-‘

 

Klaus just grins giddily, the rush of the adrenaline leaving him floaty and trembling in Diego’s arms once more. Klaus shushes him, folds Diego tighter around him, closing the hand over Diego’s where he’s trying to touch the broken skin.

 

‘It’s just a scratch, honestly,’ Klaus whispers insistently, his voice hoarse from disuse.

 

It only somewhat assures Diego, but he can tell that Klaus needs this kind of comfort more than actual medical assistance so he pulls out gently and helps Klaus step from the ruined skirt, then turns him so they’re hugging chest to chest. Diego has to hold Klaus upright a little as he kisses him softly.

 

‘Did I do good?’ Klaus asks quietly between the kissing, his sudden vulnerability startling Diego for a moment. Diego strokes his hands in Klaus’ hair reassuringly.

 

‘You did so good. So, so good, I’m so proud of you,’ Diego promises genuinely. ‘But we are seriously going to need to fucking talk about this afterward.’

 

Klaus rolls his eyes and giggles drunkenly, but unlike the way Klaus usually sounds when he gets fucked up, Diego actually likes hearing him like this.

 

‘Yes, _Daddy_.’

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> you made it! you get a gold star
> 
> thanks for reading, feedback is appreciated, I know my writing can turn into a hot rambling mess :p


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